


Infuriating

by orphan_account



Category: Achievement Hunter
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Fake AH Crew AU, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4155786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by <a href="http://anarchetypal.tumblr.com/post/120292924318/a-while-back-i-thought-about-writing-a-gta-verse">this</a> tumblr post - Files From the LSPD</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infuriating

**Author's Note:**

> ~~translations for Ryan will be at the end~~

They'd destroyed Los Santos on numerous occasions. They didn't ever get caught for those incidents, but it wasn't like all the Fake AH Crew did was pull massive heists. Michael often got bored and liked to blow things up. Geoff would cause mass disruption to the public when he got too drunk. And, well, Ryan couldn't keep up his murder break forever.

They'd all been hauled into the police department a few times before. And every single time, without fail, they gave all the officers _hell_. It had gotten bad enough that Burns stepped down from police chief, and Hullum took over. And at the sight of the notes left in the file on the Crew made him want to put a few rounds through every single officer in the building. This was _pathetic_. Really, these guys couldn't be so terrible to make Demarais cry. (Then again, it was _Demarais_.)

Then he got to meet them all first-hand.

It started with the masked one - Haywood.

"I saw two sinks and three water coolers while I was being walked back here! Yet, that poor flower is dying a slow, painful death. The first thing you should know when you buy a plant of any sort is that it needs water. Ever pick up a gardening manual? The library has plenty - I've checked out a couple myself a few times. It's simply _cruel_ to let that beautiful orchid suffer like that."

He'd been going on about Marquis's dying flower for eight minutes. Hullum was going to lose his mind.

"Can we get to the topic at hand, _please_?" he huffed. "I need you to tell me why you set that man on fire."

Haywood blinked. It seemed like he was thinking about answering the question, like Hullum's question had awoken the miniscule _moral_ part of his brain, like behind that horrifying facepaint was a man who knew he'd done wrong. Hullum couldn't have been further from the truth if he'd tried.

" _Quoi_?" Haywood looked as if he was genuinely perplexed. " _Je ne parle pas anglais_."

Hullum looked to the junior detective accompanying him in the interrogation room. "What's he saying? Is that _French_?"

The junior detective - Dunkelman or something - nodded. "He said that he doesn't speak English."

"But he was just speaking it!" Hullum snapped. What was _with_ this guy? "You know French, detective?"

"Yessir," Dunkelman replied. "I'm not perfectly fluent, but I speak some."

Hullum shot a look to the criminal that was handcuffed to the metal table. "Then ask him why he set Mr. Kovic on fire, _please_." There'd been a headache growing since Haywood first mentioned the orchid. He wanted to get this over with and just lock the felon up already.

" _Porquoi avez-vous mis le à feu Monsieur Kovic_?" Dunkelman tried, hesitantly looking toward the man whose face had been painted in blood red and death black.

"Я не говорю по-французски," Haywood replied with ease.

Dunkelman just stared back, dumbfounded. "That definitely wasn't French. Russian, maybe?"

Before Hullum could get a single curse out, the door swung open, and Heyman came in.

"Mr. Haywood has been bailed out, by Jack Pattillo," he said. "He's free to leave."

But it didn't end there.

Next was Narvaez, Jr. He was caught with Haywood, taunting innocent pedestrians on the street for kicks and shooting holes into tires and street lights. With Haywood present, Hullum didn't enter the room, and left the interrogation to Burns and Heyman. Watching the interrogation tapes, however, wasn't any less frustrating.

Two different translators joined him in his office, because despite the fact that Narvaez, Jr. had been translating for Haywood, who continuously switched languages and insisted he couldn't speak English, Hullum wasn't sure either of them was being honest.

It turned out that neither was saying anything that made the slightest bit of sense, and Narvaez Jr.'s translations were far off from what Haywood had actually been saying. Though, he was entirely fluent in all the languages they were speaking, based on the conversation they held before the interrogation began, in which they insulted the present detectives.

Hullum was even less pleased to hear that, after the two men were split into seperate rooms, Narvaez, Jr. fell asleep almost immediately, only to be woken up when Jack Pattillo bailed him out, doing the same for Haywood.

It wasn't the first time the Puerto Rican had fallen asleep during an interrogation, either. Hullum decided they needed to start giving him energy drinks before handcuffing him to the table.

When Jones and Free were brought in two weeks later, Hullum nearly had an aneurysm. Neither of them would shut up, with Jones screaming at his partner in crime, and Free responding in shrieked phrases that made even less sense than Haywood and Narvaez, Jr.'s faux exchange that was meant to be translations. They were quickly seperated, which might've been a massive mistake.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" Jones snapped at the officer who was handcuffing him to the table in the interrogation room. "Keep your hands the fuck away from me. I don't need this after the _bullshit that Gav pulled_!"

Through the walls of the facility, Hullum could hear Free shouting back, "You gave me rubbish tools! I could do bugger all with any of them!"

Jones responded with a horrible immitation accent, "It was your bloody fault, you gave me rubbish tools. Bullshit! You're just incapable of completing simple _fucking_ tasks!"

"Mr. Jones, can you please explain the explosives we found in your vehicle?" Hullum asked, a migraine forming from their continued arguing. Even in seperate rooms, they wouldn't quit fighting.

"Oh, so you were in my personal vehicle, too? Did you have a permit for that? Or _are you a no good piece of shit just like Gavin_?" Jones screamed, jerking his head toward's Free's interrogation room.

"Sod _off_!" Free replied. "It's your fault, you blubbering idiot!"

Hullum exited the room shortly after, instructing Detective Demarais to move Jones to a holding cell to be interrogated later, and to try to get some sort of information from Free in the meantime.

He nearly quit when he discovered the lock to Jones's holding cell had been blown off with explosives, and that he'd nearly walked straight out the front door. He was in a different holding cell for about five minutes before that damned Pattillo bailed him and Free out.

And then, there was Ramsey. Hullum didn't even want to start with him. He had a long record. His file was the thickest in the entire police department, and for a city like Los Santos, that said a lot.

By the time Hullum got to the interrogation room, Ramsey had managed to obtain a bottle of beer and was sipping from it as he leaned back in his chair. He seemed entirely relaxed, despite the fact that he was wearing close to nothing, other than flimsy boxer shorts. Somehow, this suspected crime lord had gotten himself brought in from flashing the public.

"Care to explain yourself, Ramsey?" Hullum sighed, slipping into the chair on the opposing side of the table, something he never usually did. But he was worn out. This crew was unreal.

"Look, I didn't mean to show my dick to the guy," Ramsey said before taking another swig of beer. "My shorts just kind of slipped off. My wife's been telling me I need to get some new ones, that fit better, but I can't be bothered. Have you ever been shopping with my wife? Not a pleasant experience. It takes forever, especially if my daughter comes with. They love to browse. I say shopping is boring as dicks. I mean, I have video games I could be playing back at my apartment!"

Apartment was hardly the word for it. Hullum had taken a look at Ramsey's personal data as he debated whether or not he wanted to interrogate him, and discovered he owned two seperate penthouses, not to mention a manor just outside the city. Narvaez, Jr. owned an apartment. Ramsey did not.

"You're not even going to argue over this?" Hullum was actually surprised for once, after all he'd had to put up with. Ramsey shrugged. "Alright. You get one phone call. Marquis, get him to a holding cell."

He expected Pattillo to bail him out. But when Hullum reviewed the phone call Ramsey made, he discovered exactly why the infamous criminal was spending the night in a cell.

"Don't even try to argue. A public indecency charge, Geoff? Of all things? You can hang out there for a few days. And yes, I know exactly what I'm doing - you're grounded, dumbass. See you Monday."

Hullum let the other officers handle the Fake AH Crew from that point on.

**Author's Note:**

> If these aren't 100% accurate - sorry, it's Google Translate
> 
> "Quoi? Je ne parle pas anglias." - What? I don't speak English.  
> "Porquoi avez-vous mis le feu Monsieur Kovic?" - Why did you set Mr. Kovic on fire?  
> "Я не говорю по-французски." - I don't speak French


End file.
